Ruthless Sentinel

by Burke, Lynn

  “So what do you say?” I whispered and leaned closer to breathe over his parted lips.

  “Yes.”

  The car stopped, and I sat back, retrieving my small handbag, my hands shaking and panties a soaked mess.

  Logan muttered a few curses under his breath while adjusting himself, and I snickered. I wouldn’t be the death of him, but I sure as hell planned on torturing him until we could slip away from Janice’s party.

  He exited the limo first, and I accepted his offer of help, moving my grip to his elbow once out of the car. Rather than question my hold on him, or even look at me for that matter, he scanned the immediate area, his face an unreadable mask.

  Energy hummed between us, raising the hairs on my arm as we moved through the door held open by one of the hotel’s employees.

  I tugged him toward the front desk on the right.

  The hotel manager claimed to be booked, but I knew they kept rooms available for emergency. Not above name dropping, I used my father without his knowing—not for the first time.

  Key card tucked away in my purse, I once more took Logan’s arm and strode toward the hotel’s ball room as though I owned the damn place.

  Freedom for the night. Freedom to drink more than a single glass of champagne if I wished, freedom to spread my legs and willingly give—and take—from the man who had burrowed into my brain, my dreams.

  Logan Stone might not be good enough for me in others’ eyes, but I refused to deny the chemistry between us. Rather, I planned on acting on said connection until sated.

  If such a thing was even possible.

  But first, I had to get Janice on board with my father’s campaign—or at least try, otherwise my life the following eleven months would suck major ass.

  Chapter Nine

  Stone

  New Year’s Eve—and Burtonelli didn’t have any intention of dropping out of the race like he’d been told to do. While the threat lay over his head personally, I’d been forced to babysit Giada rather than stay at the Burtonelli mansion to protect his ass.

  I didn’t like it. Not one fucking bit. Keeping the family together proved easier to watch over, but if shots went off, or a bomb managed to somehow get planted in the Burtonelli house, at least the children would be safe.

  I’d called in Warden and Sin to help cover the party with Greed and the other house guard, knowing full well I put them in possible harm’s way. My brothers knew how to contact me in the event of an emergency, and my spidey-sense buzzed under my skin, not allowing me a moment’s rest.

  Once again, I found myself in a room full of individuals I would never consider my people. Still clutching my arm, Giada all but dragged me toward the middle of the room without greeting a single soul on the way.

  I had no doubt who Janice was—the women held the bearing of a queen, the mass of beings in the room her underlings. Tall, beautiful, and regal from her satiny white-blonde hair to her black gown’s hem, she screamed affluent. Money. Prestige and power.

  At least in the fashion industry.

  We stood in line to greet the night’s hostess, and I continued to take stock of those in attendance. Unlike the Christmas campaigning party a few days earlier, my black suit, I’d been told, wouldn’t be good enough. I’d been outfitted with a tux, compliments of the gorgeous woman hanging on my arm.

  The collar and damn bowtie choked. The shoes pinched.

  But at least by sight, I fit into Giada’s world. Her father had even agreed to the use of a rented limo for the night who would wait nearby to retrieve us once the party ended. To the unknowing eye, I belonged in the back of that limo and in that ballroom full of affluent people, same as her.

  Giada had already rented a room, so I had every intention of enjoying the hell out of her and her body, but I knew I had no chance at a future with her. I didn’t belong in her world—never would.

  That became more apparent as I continued to examine the crowd. I recognized a dozen faces, a few of the younger ones who’d been in attendance at the Christmas party. I noted, too, more than one face from the big screen, and the previous year’s Golden Globe winner for best actress.

  Or was that an Oscar?

  Not that I cared.

  Giada finally released her hold on me to air kiss both of Janice’s cheeks. They exchanged the usual bullshit compliments that were probably expected before Giada turned toward me.

  “This is Logan Stone, my plus one.”

  I dipped my head in greeting and took her outstretched hand.

  She offered more of a grip than I’d expected, her gaze flitting down over me. “Well aren’t you a tasty morsel. Wherever did Giada find you?”

  I glanced at Giada, not sure what she wanted to reveal about her family’s personal business.

  “He’s my newest conquest,” she said with a laugh and wink. “Don’t get any ideas, though—and please don’t take it personal if we disappear long before the midnight hour. I haven’t come close to getting my fill of this man.”

  “You poor soul.” Janice laughed at me and turned back toward Giada, completely dismissing my presence.

  I kept my face passive.

  A conquest.

  Obviously, Giada must be known for such things for my plus one status to be brushed aside so easily by our hostess. My stomach clenched as Giada moved closer to Janice to speak quietly.

  I’d expected to be asked what I did for a living, how I fit into their snobbish world. I even half expected Giada to lie about who I was for the sake of her father’s race—and I’d been prepared to not judge her for it, either.

  She might not have had her fill of her conquest—but she’d gotten everything she would from me.

  My guts in a fucking knot, I closed myself off and focused on the job at hand. Being the sentinel I’d been hired to be.

  A few minutes of buzzed chatter, and Giada moved away, her hand once more clutching my arm. She grabbed a glass of champagne off a server’s tray and made her way toward the edge of the ballroom, pausing here and there to take time to greet others.

  Fake kisses, jealous side glances down over her perfect body from her friends’ dates—female and males alike. I dipped my head in greeting, but kept my mouth shut, ignoring the jealous and lustful looks from those obsessed with beautiful people or masculinity that threatened their fragile self-confidence.

  Twice while making our way toward a dark corner, Giada introduced me as her latest conquest with a small laugh and wink.

  Rather than feel embarrassed, my pissiness heightened until I couldn’t help but clench my jaw.

  “Can you believe this guest list?” Giada asked, her eyes sparkling and smile blindingly bright as we finally stood against the wall. She drank down half her bubbly before pressing her curves against my side. “I don’t think my agent has arrived yet, but there are three photographers here that I’ve been dying to work with.”

  Unmoved, I continued to watch the sea of bodies sucking down alcohol when not stretching their mouths in fake-ass grins.

  Giada chatted excitedly for a few minutes, sharing gossip about this person and that, and I didn’t even bother feigning interest.

  “Logan.”

  “Yeah?” I didn’t look down at her.

  She pinched my arm. “Hey.”

  I turned toward her, and her smile faded as she peered up at me.

  “You shut down on me.”

  “Why do you care if I’m nothing more than your latest boy toy?”

  A flicker of a frown—and she laughed. “Oh my God, Logan, you can’t possibly think I meant that about you being a conquest.”

  “And why would I think anything different when your snobbish friend over there acted as though that fact wasn’t anything new under the sun, that I didn’t deserve another minute of her time?”

  Giada’s smile faded, and I read the regret in her eyes. “I told her that to keep her from asking too many questions. I didn’t want you to be embarrassed.”

  “You mean you didn’t want
to be embarrassed if everyone here learned the truth about who your plus one is—a hard-working blue collar who has no business brushing shoulders with your society.”

  She snorted, her brow furrowing. “As if I give a shit what you do for a living.”

  “Admit it, Giada. I’m a man beneath your station, and having me in your life as anything resembling relationship status would be a hindrance to what you have planned for your future.”

  The crossing of her arms pushed her tits up high and drew my focus. I snapped it up to her face quick as fuck, though, my insides a fucking mess.

  “You don’t know the first thing about my dreams, Logan Stone. Don’t pretend to know me after one hot as fuck romp in my shower.” Chin lifted, she peered up at me, eyes flashing green fire.

  My cock twitched, and I scowled. Damn woman.

  “Got nothing to say?” she asked, arching high one of her perfectly groomed eyebrows.

  A muscle jumped in my jaw as I clenched my teeth, forcing my focus off her face to the crowd around us. Perhaps she told the truth—or perhaps she attempted to manipulate me into giving her my cock she hadn’t yet “gotten her fill of”.

  Even if she told the truth, I didn’t belong in her world. Why torture myself by fucking her again knowing nothing could come of it?

  A good damn memory to jerk off to, I told myself, but I wasn’t an asshole like those MC romance heroes she’d said she read about.

  “Giada!”

  I snapped my head around to find a tiny guy approaching—premature white hair with blue tips stuck straight up from his scalp like he’d licked a goddamn light socket. Eyes too blue to be real twinkled as he grinned a toothy, blinding white smile.

  “Fab.” I noted the joy in Giada’s voice and stepped back as they hugged hard like long-lost friends.

  Fab? What the hell kind of name is that?

  “You look ravishing, darling,” Fab said, finally easing off a bit to air kiss both of her cheeks.

  “Same!” Giada held him at arm’s length and quickly took in his ridiculous tux. Brighter and just as yellow as a golden sun, sequins along the lapels, skinny pants, and four-inch heeled boots—

  “This is my friend Logan,” Giada said, gesturing at me.

  At least she hadn’t called me her conquest.

  I nodded and stuck out my hand.

  One of Fab’s perfectly groomed eyebrows arched and he whistled through his teeth while checking me out from head to toe and back up again. “Girl ... where did you find this man?” He laughed and took my hand, not waiting for Giada to answer. “A pleasure to meet you, Logan.”

  “Same.” I snipped the word, waiting for him to release his grip on my hand.

  “You don’t happen to be in need of an agent, are you, Logan?”

  Agent—must be Giada’s, and he wants me to model?

  I bit back my snort. “No, but you’re Giada’s?”

  “Lucky me,” he purred. Fab glanced between Giada and me a few times before finally letting go of my hand. “Mmm hmm,” he hummed with a grin.

  “So those three photographers I’ve been dying to work with that keep turning you down over the phone?” Giada said, head swiveling to scan the crowd. “They’re here—and you need to work your magic, face to face. Don’t take no for an answer.”

  Fab giggled—fucking giggled, and I found my lips twitching. Fab for fabulous, I wondered? Flamboyant as hell, he was a confident, cocky fucker that was for sure. Nothing better than meeting someone who knew who they were and owned it.

  I realized he was the first real person I’d met that night—even if he did air kiss Giada.

  “Drink another champagne and hang here with Logan...” Fab checked me out again, winking when his gaze finally rested on my face. “It’s time to work some Fab magic.”

  He sashayed away, and Giada laughed.

  “Quite the character,” I mumbled, still smiling.

  “He’s the best.” Giada took a huge breath, lifting her gorgeous tits, and let it out in a rush. “So. Back to what we were talking about.”

  My smile faded, and I closed myself back down, taking another scan of the ball room.

  “Logan.”

  “Yeah.” I didn’t look at her.

  “Logan.”

  I lifted an eyebrow and met her steady gaze.

  “How long are you going to stay closed off to me because of this misunderstanding?”

  “Closed off?”

  She frowned and crossed her arms, her empty champagne glass’ stem between two fingers sticking out by her elbow. “Yes, closed off as in shutting me down—out. My first taste of freedom in six days, and you’re totally killing it—and not in a good way. I told you the truth.”

  “I believe you, but this can’t happen, Giada. It never should have happened.”

  “Stubborn ass,” she grumbled. “I’ll change your mind.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “I did before. I will again.”

  We glared at one another for a few seconds, and I had to tear my focus off her face—her fiery eyes and plump, red as hades lips to check out our surroundings again.

  “Coward,” she said with a sniff.

  I jerked my focus back to her face. “I’m doing my fucking job, Giada. Keeping you safe like I’ve been hired to do.”

  She sniffed again while holding my stare. “It was Father’s life that was threatened, not mine.”

  “Not directly, but if someone wants to hurt your father, who would they target?”

  “Oh, please,” she said with a sarcastic laugh. “My father could give two shits about me other than negative press from an untimely death. If they—whoever the hell they are—want to ruin Father, they need to put a bullet through Marisa or Cristian’s brain. That would kill him more than losing Mother, even.”

  I searched her eyes for any trace she hoped the oldest golden child she’d been compared to her whole life would meet their end in such a way. Coming up empty, I mentally stepped back and inhaled slowly, forcing my shoulders to relax.

  My cell buzzed in my coat’s pocket, and I fished it out, a shot of adrenaline ripping through me at the name on the screen.

  “What’s up, Warden?” I asked, thoroughly expecting to hear an attempt had been made on the judge’s life.

  “Call just came in—”

  His tone said it all, and I steeled the muscles in my face to keep from revealing the bad news I was about to hear.

  “Car accident.”

  “Who?” I asked, knowing it was one of two.

  “Cristian.”

  Fuck. I peered down at Giada, fighting to remain stoic. “Outcome?”

  “Not good.” He cursed. “Not good at all.”

  “We’re on our way.” I hit end, but kept hold of my cell.

  “Logan, what’s going on?” Giada asked, her voice small.

  Guess I hadn’t hid shit from her.

  I texted the limo driver rather than answer Giada, telling him to get his ass back to the hotel’s entrance to pick us up earlier than planned.

  “We have to leave.”

  Giada stared at me as I shoved my cell back in my pocket, concern etching her face. “What’s going on?

  “I’ll tell you in the car.” I grabbed her hand, and she followed willingly.

  Fab happened to be in our path for the ballroom doors, and the second he focused on my face, his smile dissolved and he glanced down at Giada. I kept my lips in a thin line, scanning the others around us, my stride not hesitating from getting Giada the hell out of there.

  The accident could have been just that—an accident, but I wasn’t taking any chances with her life.

  “Giada?” Fab asked, scurrying to her side as I pulled her along behind me.

  “I gotta go,” she told him. “I-I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Just work your magic.”

  I didn’t give them time for air kisses or further goodbyes.

  The lobby sat mostly empty, and the chatter and music from the party muted as th
e doors swung shut behind us.

  Giada’s cell rang as her heels clicked on the marble floor beside me. She opened her purse and glanced at the caller.

  “Don’t answer that,” I said, my voice hard as we stopped a few feet from the doors leading outside.

  “But it’s my father.” She lifted her focus to my face.

  “Please,” I begged, allowing my stone façade to ease up a bit.

  “Logan?” she whispered, her eyes welling.

  I pulled her into my arms, effectively keeping her from answering the call that I knew would wreck her.

  She clung to me, shaking, being a good girl and not answering when her phone rang twice more while we waited for the limo.

  “Turn it off,” I whispered.

  Giada obeyed without hesitation and returned to my arms the second she dropped the cell back in her small purse.

  Mine cell rang—Burtonelli. I ignored his call as well, and the second the limo pulled up outside the hotel’s windows, I released Giada and grasped her hand. “Let’s go.”

  I studied the surrounding area through the windows before exiting, my head swiveling non-fucking stop.

  “Take a different route than the one here,” I barked at the driver as he opened the limo’s back door.

  The second the door shut behind us, I raised the privacy window and turned to find Giada’s troubled gaze plastered to my face, her hands clutching her purse on her lap.

  “Tell me.”

  “Cristian.”

  Tears welled, and she swallowed, her pain knifing through my fucking chest. “No,” she managed to squeak.

  I pulled her into my arms, but she didn’t melt against me. She shrieked, beating against my chest, and I bit my lip as sobbed curses ripped from hers.

  Chapter Ten

  Giada

  I loved wearing black—usually rocked it—but not the black of grief. Sitting in the front of the church alongside Marisa, I stared at the priest’s moving mouth, nothing in my ears but a ringing that hadn’t ceased since learning the love of my life had lost his in a car accident.

  Numbness had crept in before Logan and I had even returned home, denial or my emotions dying along with my baby brother’s, I didn’t know. I couldn’t find it in myself to care about that either.